


Mint & Antiseptic Kisses

by AndreaLyn



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 21:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15300606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: Ever since Christine kissed Nyota at the end of a mission, Spock & Nyota have been thinking of changing their situation.





	Mint & Antiseptic Kisses

She comes into their notice during the second year of the  _Enterprise’s_  voyage. She is long smooth lines, curves adorned in blue and white, and hair like a princess from Earth’s old myths. Uhura is the first to take notice of her, but she is busy taking notice of Spock. They continue in their routine as if nothing new has happened, but Nurse Chapel is new to them. Her mere presence lights curiosity in Spock’s mind and Uhura feeds it back through the bond.  
  
… _she kissed me on the lips, took my arms and held me close and kissed me…_  
  
These are Uhura’s thoughts as they have tea and Spock lightly brushes his finger in an intimate gesture over Uhura’s finger and they share thoughts of the last mission in which Chapel affectionately kissed Uhura before proceeding to aid Doctor McCoy in the healing of their fellow crewmembers.   
  
 _What did it taste like?_  
  
 _Vanilla. The slightest hint of mint and antiseptic_ , Uhura thinks back distractedly, the two fingers Spock has been kissing touching upon her lower lip as she recalls that miasma of scent that had touched her lips so briefly. Nothing more than a good luck charm or a belayed goodbye, but it lingers with Uhura yet.   
  
Her mind continues to drift constantly back to this and Spock carries himself along for the ride, pushed forward by the momentum of disastrously selfish thoughts.  
  
“We’ve always been just us,” Uhura says simply. “Would it be so selfish to be something else?”  
  
“It would be illogical to seek outside companionship when we are both happy,” Spock replies calmly.  
  
“But what if we could be happier. Not permanently. But for a time.”  
  
This is the beginning of a spiral that leads them both to curious thoughts of the woman who has been with them from the start. It is Spock who encounters intimacy with her next in the form of a necessary-but-difficult procedure that Doctor McCoy has insisted be completed.  
  
“Look, Spock,” McCoy had sighed. “You’ve got cactus needles all over your hands, but Jim’s got them near his  _eyes_. Chapel will take good care of you, I swear,” he insists, already rushing off to surgery where their Captain has been prepared so that the Doctor can perform on him and avert any permanent loss of vision.   
  
Nurse Chapel arrives in his stead with a tray and tweezers accompanying the apologetic look on her face.   
  
“Would you like a hypospray to numb the effects of the pain?” she asks.   
  
“I shall meditate to reduce the discomfort,” Spock replies and sets about altering his mental state to assure such a possibility. It is not the pain that is problematic as Chapel sets about her very professional work. She is very good and Spock means to tell her so, but he is distracted by the stroke of her fingers in between each needle. It is not intentional, but Spock is able to hear glimpses of Chapel’s most shallow thoughts as she works.  
  
 _Just focus on what you’re doing…McCoy will never let you have your own patients if you can’t prove yourself…”_  
  
And upon a slightly deeper level, he catches the sheepish and desire-fuelled thought that strikes when two of her fingers brush up the length of his index finger. It is a Vulcan kiss, but it is not intentional.   
  
 _His skin is so soft._  
  
Spock knows that such thoughts are not his to hear. He has not been given the express permission necessary to indulge in Nurse Chapel’s most intimate thoughts, but he is privy to them all as she cleans up his hands and runs the dermal regenerator over broken and blistered skin. The meditation helps very little in shielding her thoughts because he is most determined to prevent his body from reaction in other ways.   
  
He permits himself a temporary indulgence in the fantasy world that Chapel has erected for herself in which they are alone in Medical and the confines of Vulcan logic do not apply to him. She allows him kisses down her neck and imagines his hands removing her tunic as she touches his body.   
  
It is a most  _intriguing_  train of thoughts and he is most pleased to follow them.   
  
“…ock?”  
  
Spock realizes, belatedly, that Chapel has been attempting to gain his attention.   
  
“Yes, Nurse Chapel?”   
  
“You’re all finished.”  
  
“Good,” Spock remarks with a nod. “Please advise me when the Captain’s surgery is completed.”   
  
That evening when he returns to his shared quarters with Nyota, he begins to understand the argument she has been presenting. He does not see them in crisis or particularly unhappy, but it is difficult to ignore the facts and the facts include one simple fact: Nurse Chapel dreamed of him in ways that suggested she wished an intimate relationship. Nyota does not disapprove provided her presence is mandated at such a meeting of ‘ships in the night’, as Jim might say.   
  
He is sitting with Queen in hand and regarding his three-dimensional chess board when Nyota returns from her shift.   
  
“I believe,” he notes evenly, “that we have much to discuss.”  
  
*  
  
When Christine sees Nyota, she’s at once excited, nervous, and worried. It’s become a normal reaction lately when she sees her best friend. She adores her company and sometimes feels something burning underneath her skin that isn’t quite friendship. Yet, she worries every time because every single time she believes that this is the time that Nyota will reveal that she knows the truth about Christine’s feelings for Spock or will have somehow gleaned Christine’s feelings for  _her_. She can’t bear to think of her best friendship marred by a set of silly crushes that she knows isn’t as deep as the bond between Nyota and Spock.   
  
Still, it doesn’t stop her from dreaming.   
  
Christine tries not to pay too much attention to the Captain as she hears the door slide shut and his quiet, “I’ll sign the papers later. Same time as usual?” as he leaves McCoy’s office and flashes brilliant smiles to the staff and patients he passes. When his back is fully turned, Christine stops pretending to focus on her work and looks up in time to see Jim palm his collar and adjust it just the slightly bit.   
  
“Christine,” Nyota distracts her away from her thoughts of all things sweet and disallowed and romantic. Nyota’s here for a check-up and isn’t supposed to watch Christine struggle with her emotions or her thoughts about all things lovelorn. “You’re staring. Do you have a thing for our gregarious Captain?”  
  
Christine bites her lip to keep herself from spilling forth secrets about how it’s not the Captain she’s pining after, but that will let loose the gates of something that she doesn’t want to unleash.   
  
“Christine?” comes Nyota’s amused poke, though when Christine dares to look up, Nyota doesn’t look very happy at all. In fact, she seems disquieted and disappointed by the fact that Christine is paying so much attention to Jim. “Do you want Jim?”  
  
“McCoy wouldn’t like that at all,” Christine says mildly. “And I like my job. And…” She’s going to regret this later, but right now she can’t see anything wrong with giving the edge of the truth, “And I like the idea of something else more.”  
  
Sickbay seems too public a place to have this conversation, especially every time Christine feels her heart lift just high enough to get stuck in her throat, strangled and aching all at once.   
  
“Nyota, I…”  
  
“Chris…”  
  
They’re both trying to get something out at once, but Christine doesn’t want to imagine what kind of let-down she’s about to receive from her best friend when nothing’s actually happened outside of her active imagination.  
  
“I think,” Nyota begins, reaching out to press a slender finger to Chapel’s perfectly pink lips before she can get a word out in edgewise, “that you and I should talk about this in private. Spock and my quarters? Eight o’clock?”  
  
Christine nods and, though she’s sure she looks stunned, agrees with a lick of her lips. She almost cannot believe this is happening. She almost wants to ask McCoy to pinch her if she weren’t so sure to be rebuked with a ‘dammit, Chapel, I’m working’.   
  
“Eight o’clock,” she agrees. “To talk.”  
  
*  
  
There’s not much talking to be done that evening. Between Nyota’s command of languages and Spock’s ability to make master of anything in the universe with logic, they do little more than make the most primitive of noises as Christine’s fingers explore the breadth of Nyota’s thighs and Spock’s lips trace pink marks into Christine’s neck.   
  
Christine makes note of how green Spock’s cheeks flush when aroused and Nyota coaxes Christine down onto the bed so that she can put her tongue to use.   
  
Talking is not even close to on the table as they exchange kisses – long lingering things that Christine claims greedily, tasting apples and spice and perfume as she kisses Nyota and leather and crisp detergent with every kiss to Spock’s skin. It’s as if her dreams have been invaded and she’s been given everything that she could possibly want. They spend the night in strange positions that Christine would never dream of imagining herself in and Nyota whispers breathless insistence that they’ll speak come the morning.  
  
There is no dawn to measure morning on a spaceship, but the chronometer sounds alarm and warns them that Alpha shift is approaching.   
  
There’s no speaking to be had in the morning either as Christine is guided to the door by Nyota – clad only in a small pink robe that hardly does its job covering her body and merely leaves little to the imagination. Christine, who has been given a thorough examination of what’s under the robe, would very much like to return and master the area.  
  
Spock sits not far away, folding uniforms and bedclothes.  
  
“We want to be adults about this,” Nyota says, after a lengthy and lingering kiss. “We’re just not sure if we want this to be permanent yet. Do you understand?”  
  
Christine wishes that she could simply slip into an existing relationship as easily as she’s sure the Captain could. She’s heard McCoy’s stories about his prowess, but she is not him and she doesn’t want to be him. It’s not James Kirk on Nyota’s doorstep stealing early morning kisses while Spock looks on with interest.   
  
She knows that she’s gotten a sliver of what she wants and that she should be relieved to even have that. If taking things slow and steady is how she wins this race, then she’ll oblige with bells on.  
  
“Just don’t start pretending I don’t exist,” is all Christine has to say on the subject.  
  
She takes comfort in the fact that it’s Spock who rises up and comes to bid her good day with a chaste and hot kiss to her lips. “To do so would be an  _impossibility_ ,” he assures. “Please perform adequately today, Nurse Chapel.” With that, he vanishes into the bathroom he shares with the Captain, where she can faintly overhear a skirmish and a muttered ‘goddamn it, Spock, don’t you knock?’  
  
Nyota is what she focuses on, though. She’s radiant as she grins at Christine and squeezes her palm lightly. “That,” she announces, “means he really does like you.”  
  
And that, as far as she’s concerned, is all the start she needs.


End file.
